


Rent Girl

by GenesisBurke



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Anal Sex, Clones, Cruelty, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fisting, Fucking Machines, Humiliation, Multi, Public Humiliation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Restraints, Sadism, Science Fiction, Sexual Slavery, Sexual Violence, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-21 10:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30020148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenesisBurke/pseuds/GenesisBurke
Summary: Petra is in trouble. Taken as a clone, she's lost all her rights and now faces an uncertain future. Will someone buy her or will she follow the other unsold clones who get taken out through the curtain.
Kudos: 14





	1. The Warehouse

Petra knelt, naked, in her cage her fingers interlaced behind her neck thrusting her tits forward. They weren't big tits and she wanted to emphasize their perfect honeydew shape to the potential buyer. It wasn't that she wanted to get a good price, she wanted desperately to be purchased. A marketing major in her first year of study, she knew the value of presenting stock in the sales process. She spread her legs slightly to give a good view of her bald sex. Wide enough to show off the gal between her thighs but not too wide. She wanted to show off her curves just right. She'd been watching and learning from the other girls. The buyer was at the next cage examining the blonde with the big tits. Blondes and big tits were big sellers and Petra was neither. 

She knew the cues. Face, tits, then pussy. If the buyer was interested in an actual purchase, he'd start a detailed examination looking for flaws. Past that, it was out of the cage for a demonstration. The blonde was turned around one her hands and knees, as to the buyer as he performed a detailed inspection of her anus. Petra's heart hammered in her chest. She'd learned a lot about her body in the past ten days. One of the things she'd learned is she had a perfect little asshole. Small, slightly darker than the skin around it and perfectly puckered. She yearned to be ordered to present her delicate little ring to this buyer.

"I'll think about it," said the buyer. 

This was Petra's signal. She tensed her thighs to tighten and shape the muscles ready for her inspection. She stared straight ahead. Obedient and servile for her potential owner. She was rewarded for her efforts. 

"Great legs on this one," the buyer said. 

"Yes, this is a trim, tight little package," the salesman replied. 

The salesman always had nice things to say about the girls. That was his job. Two weeks ago, Petra had been sitting in the front of a professor teaching sales theory. Now she was just a commodity. One that she desperately wanted to be sold. 

"Tits are lacking," said the buyer and he moved on. 

The rejection was a sledgehammer to her gut. Each rejection became worse and worse. She'd been elated at the first one, disgusted at the thought of being owned, but soon came to realize that being purchased was the best way out of here. She held her pose and said nothing. She wanted to argue, to cry, to scream but her voice was too valuable to her so she kept her mouth shut. 

She held the pose until the buyer was two full cages down. Once, just once a buyer came back and Petra had slumped back into her cage. She wasn't going to make the same mistake again. 

The buyer did come back but only to further examine the blonde with the big tits. Petra seethed with jealousy as she watched the blonde crawl out of her cage, her huge tits hanging down. The inspection of the lucky blonde continued outside the cage. At one point the blonde gasped as the buyer pressed a dildo into her ass to test her holes. Inside her cage, Petra silently imagined it was her gasp of pain. The blonde groaned as the plastic shaft was pressed deeper into her. Rapid, shallow breaths and the blonde's screwed up face were too much to watch as another wave of pure envy surged through Petra. Soon she'd hear the moans and cries of the blonde being tested as she was strapped to one of the inspection benches. 

Life wasn't fair. 

It wasn't her fault she had small tits. It also wasn't her fault that she was a clone. Just as small tits kept her here being disappointed by buyer after buyer, being a clone is what got her here in the first place. 

Life wasn't fair at all.

In less than a week she'd gone from aspiring marketing major to aspiring fuckslut, caught up in the whole clone scandal. She'd never imagined that she'd been a clone. Her foster parents raised her like any other girl, like her sister, their biological daughter. But as public sentiment shifted, they'd become more distant. More guarded. Petra put it down to the change in the relationship as she'd started college. She'd been too busy to follow the news. The political dramas, the raging debates, the changes in laws and the sudden disappearance of clones. All that was distant as Petra focused on consumer behavior and campaign theory. And parties and boys. Ignorant and uncaring of what was happening to the 'clone problem'.

When they came for her, everything she'd seen on TV about arrests was wrong. There were no police, no reading of rights, no rights to an attorney. She'd been sitting having the most awkward dinner with her folks. Her little sister Danya was nowhere to be seen. Her parents said nothing when she asked. They sat as she ate slowly and her mother didn't eat at all. Silent and strange around the table, Petra wondering it she'd changed that much.

A pounding at the door. "Animal control," a voice boomed. "Open up."

It was the last time Petra can remember laughing. They had no pets. Getting raided by animal control was hilarious. 

But no one else laughed. Her dad slowly pushed his chair back from the table. His stood slowly, like an old man and walked to the front door. He looked so old and frail that Petra stood, ready to help him.

He mom's hand caught her own. "Stay," she said, her voice a hoarse whisper. 

Petra looked down at her mom. Their eyes never met, her mother looking straight ahead, her face impassive.

Three men in dark green coveralls with yellow florescent vests followed her dad back into the room.

One of them, a large heavyset man with a bushy brown beard with streaks of grey lifted his hand. "It this it?" he said pointing at Petra.

There was a long silence, then her dad barely whispered out one word. "Yes."

The next thing Petra remembered was a flash of light and an explosion of agony that racked her body. She didn't remember hitting the floor. By the time she'd recovered enough, she couldn't move her arms or her legs and heavy weights crushed her to the floor. Rough hands held her in place as her arms were twisted into strange positions behind her back. Next her legs were pulled up hard. She kicked only to find her ankles were stuck together, the hard bands cutting into her flesh. An incredible weight fell on her legs trapping them against her body. When the weight was released, her legs were bound to her arms unable to move. Horrified she opened her mouth to scream at her assailants, to beg her parents for help but as soon as she opened her mouth a hard round object was shoved inside, so harshly she feared for her teeth. Tight bands bit into her cheek holding a ball, obscenely large, inside her mouth. Strong hands held her head still as a large sheet of tape was pressed harshly over her lower face closing off her mouth, the edge dangerously close to her nostrils. She stopped struggling terrified she'd cut off her supply of air. Lying on her front, hogtied, her head to one side, she panted, her eyes catching those of her foster mother for just a second before a bag was pulled over her head. 

Lying in darkness, in her own hot breath, she squirmed ineffectually. 

"What will happen to her?" It was her foster mother's voice. 

No one had called Petra 'her' since.

The blonde crawled on her hands and knees, following the salesman. The dark brown leash attached to her collar was old, and worn and ordinary. Not like the leashes that some of the buyers brought it. Pink or shiny chain or silk rope. No, the blonde with the big tits wasn't brought. Just taken for testing. Buyers liked to know what they were getting. It was rare for a girl to go without testing. Petra slouched in her cage and waited. She didn't want to watch. At first, she'd watch in horror. Then she'd watched with interest hoping to learn, terrified that her turn would come. Later, she'd watched with envy afraid that her turn wouldn't come. Now she waited with disinterest resigned to the fact that she'd never be strapped to the bench. Not like the blonde. 

The blonde obediently hopped up onto the bench and lay down when the salesman patted it's surface. All the girls learned early to obey commands. Failure to obey led to correction and repeated failure to obey led to a one way trip behind the curtain along with all the fat and ugly girls. Wherever the fat and ugly girls went wasn't something Petra wanted to find out. 

The blonde put her feet in the stirrups. Any girl that had been here longer than half a day know to do that. With her feet securely fastened, the salesman adjusted the stirrups pushing her legs up and apart, exposing her smooth sex. The buyer watched, his eyes greedy but critical, on the lookout for any defects. The salesman finished strapping her down. Straps over her stomach and arms, across her chest just under her tits, around her neck, and finally one over her forehead holding it in place. Girls never had to do anything when being tested for their buyers. 

Just out out Petra's earshot, the salesman and buyer exchanged a few words. The salesman nodded and walked over to a line of machines. Picking one, he wheeled it towards the girl, a trolley with a smooth ended plastic rod protruding from the front, white and artificial with a slight upward curve. The salesman wheeled the trolley between the blonde's legs. Her eyes were wide. All the girls were terrified when strapped to the bench. They never knew what test was going to be performed. 

Petra knew. She could have put the blonde at ease but she valued her voice more than comforting about girl. Especially one who'd got herself a buyer. The salesman wheeled the trolley until the rod pointed directly at the blonde's cunt. 

A quick word from the buyer and the salesman adjusted the contraption on the trolley. The rod lowered by a couple of inches. The salesman picked up a bottle off the trolley and squirted a thick transparent paste onto the rod. They buyer hadn't completed the purchase and the salesman didn't want to ruin his stock. 

The blonde gasped and her eyes opened wide as the salesman pushed the contraption forward until the white rounded end pressed against her ass. She grimaced as he kept pushing, the plastic disappearing into her. She groaned and shuddered. It was clear that she didn't like anal just as it was equally clear this buyer loved it. Petra leaned her head against the cage. Anal or not, at least the bitch had an interested buyer. A far as Petra was concerned, the fucking blonde had no right to complain. 

Slumped on her cage, she wondered at how far she'd come. Or fallen. Or whatever anyone called it. 

At the time, she'd thought the ride in the truck was the worst thing that had ever happened to her. At the time, it probably was. She'd just been snatched from her parents. Or given away. Or sold out. Why else had they sent her sister away? Why hadn't her foster father been surprised by the knock at the door. Why else had her foster mother asked what was going to happen to her. She never asked what was happening. What was going on? No, simply. 'what will happen to her?' 

She lay on the floor of the truck, trussed up like some prize game as the steel deck vibrated under her. Every now and again a change in direction or speed would see her slide across the floor. Then the truck stopped and she waited in the silence and the dark. The door clanked then opened with a cream. Cold night air blasted her body and a heavy shape dropped beside her. After three more clones slid across the floor she was no longer alone. After a few more, it became difficult to breath. Al least in the truck, she'd been left alone. And it was the last time she remembered the feeling of clothes.

The groans of the blonde turned into a high pitched wail as the rod thrust in and out of her ass. They kept the machine going until the girl couldn't take it any more. She hadn't broken yet. She was a brave one this blonde with the big tits. Petra rolled her head to the side and glanced out at the test bench. The girl was squirming, helpless in her bonds while the buyer looked on eagerly, lust in his eyes. The salesman sat back letting the buyer get his fill. The blonde with the big tits was as good as sold. The greedy, lustful look on the buyers face said it all. 

Petra closed her eyes and sighed. As good as fucking sold, the lucky cunt.

A tear slid down her cheek, the hollow feeling of rejection inside her. She didn't know how much longer she'd be on display. Spreading her little legs, thrusting out her tits and flashing her cunt for the buyers that came through. Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow she'd find out what was on the other side of the curtain. 

The curtain terrified her. 

She'd been relieved when the truck that collected her finally stopped. Relieved with terror gnawing at to insides. It was hot in the bag that was still over her head. Her mouth was blocked by the tape and air was difficult to get. All through the trip, her mind raced with scenarios. What would happen and how could she escape. They couldn't keep her tied up forever could they? She'd wait her chance. One things was certain, she wasn't going to get help from the people she called Mom and Dad. Even if she escaped, she'd not be able to return there. Bile rose in her throat as she replayed those final moments in her head. Was even her younger sister, who adored her safe? No one was safe. If she had nowhere to go, what would she do if she did escape.

The weight of the bodies disappeared around her. First on, last o she was dragged across the deck and manhandled onto a tray. A trolley. It moved. She didn't resist. She couldn't see, she could barely breathe and her limbs were bound into awkward shapes that gave her painful cramps. She would need to wait until they loosened the bonds.

An electric snap followed by a groan assaulted her ears. The mysterious sounds were followed by the frantic activity of a body being moved. Men's voices saying strange, disconnected things. 

"Ready". 

"Clear." 

"Got it." 

"Lift." 

"Secured." 

The code of some activity she couldn't understand. 

The voices got closer and closer. Slowly. Other activities in between. A crack. Female grunts. Some groans, badly muffled. The clink of metal. Chains.

The voices stood next to her. Immobile and helpless, she tensed. 

"Ready."

Her heart raced.

"Clear."

Her body jerked in agony and her mind blanked out. Coming too was as painful the second time as it was the first. Except the pain was in her shoulders and in her wrists. Hanging by her wrists, the metal of the cuffs cut into her flesh. All her weight on her shoulders, with her arms pulled above her head. It made breathing difficult. She dangled but her feet were on the ground but her knees were buckled, not supporting her. Tasered unconscious a second time, an easy way to control her fate. She pulled her knees under her and stood up. Groggy, she looked up and her wrists were shackled together with metal cuffs. The cuffs hooked onto a chain that hung down from the ceiling. Her cuffs.

The clones all formed a line.

With no bag on her head, she could see her fellow captives. It was a mix. Mostly girls. A couple of guys. Various body shapes. The girl ahead of Petra being particularly fat. All gagged. The same wide bands of black tape.

This was Petra's first inspection. It wouldn't be her last. She hated it this first time but once she realised what they signified, she craved them. Inspections and testing meant assessment of a girl's value. She craved it.

The big titted blond's wails turned into howls. They buyer wanted to test his acquisition properly. They always did. The whine of the machine fucking her ass had increased in pitch. The occasional glug and spurt of lube being squeezed directly onto the shaft was barely perceptible. But still, the buyer hadn't completed the purchase and the salesman didn't want to ruin the blonde's ass. Then the buyer would walk off and the salesman would lose his sale and his commission. He'd probably get a dressing down from his sales manager as well. If he ruined her ass, she'd become unsellable. Defective. And she'd experience a one way trip to wherever all the fat and ugly girls went. No ruining asses is what owners could do, not buyers. 

The blonde's howls turned into shrieks then settled into sobbing. This buyer was a sadistic fuck. That made Petra feel only a little bit better. Was being wanted by a sadistic fuck better than being rejected. Unwanted. Petra had no way to know but she was a marketing major. She knew the dymanics at play. If you can't shift stock, you discount it but if you discount it, then you incentivize customers not to buy as they wait for the discounts. Sometimes, it's just better to let unsold stock go unsold. Something the warehouse seems to have taken to heart.

The salesman switched the machine off and the rod halted. Leaving it in her ass, the salesman and the buyer walked off. Big tits blond had a new fucking owner. Petra swallowed hard with the bitter disappointment. If the buyer walked off alone the deal was off. Together it was to complete the paperwork. The blonde would wait, strapped down with that rod jammed up her raw ass for her details to go into the ownership papers. 

Maybe tomorrow a buyer would have Petra strapped down and her ass fucked raw until she was a screaming, sobbing wreck. She hoped so. 

"What will happen to her?" Petra's mother said. 

Petra wondered if her foster mom would have done anything different if she could have seen where Petra would end up. 

Probably not. 

That wasn't her mom. She wouldn't want to know. Her mom always relied on we dad for difficult things. Petra remembered the time she got into trouble at school. Her mom called into the principal's office. Schooled on the expected behavior of girls. She promised the principal that Petra would be properly disciplined. When she got Petra home, her mom handed the problem to her dad and disappeared. He'd thrashed her. Brutal. So bruises would show and the teachers could be clear Petra had been taught her lesson. 

"What will happen to her?" is as guilty as her mom got. She didn't want to know. She'd accepted the answer easily enough. 

"We'll take care of it, ma'am." A glib soothing answer that her mom didn't question further. She'd heard what she wanted to hear. Enough for her conscience. Not enough to know the truth. 

They were caring for Petra now. Feeding time. Her last meal here. New stock arrived in the morning. The ritual was the same. Old, unsold stock wheeled out in their cages, new stock brought in. Their cages lined up inside the painted lines in the showroom floor. Sad eyes of other silent girls watch the poor unsold soul being carried out beyond that curtain. Except clones didn't have souls. Or other human requirements. Like dignity. 

Dinner was slop, the same as breakfast. Delivered in a steel bowl with a flared base. Slipped through a gap in the bottom of the cage the flared edge slotting into place so she couldn't take it into the cage. She knelt in front of the bowl and carefully pulled her hair to the sides with her hands. She'd lost valuable buyer opportunities on the first day with the gunk in her hair and on her hands. With no cleaning facilities she'd needed to wait until her toilet break at the end of the day when they hosed her down. 

No. Petra learned quickly. Holding her hair tightly to one side, she leaned over putting her face in the bowl. Pursing her lips, she sucked up the gruel. No idea what was in it, it kept the hunger somewhat at bay. It was the same slop everyday. Cheap, easy to manage. The marketing major came back. The price of the product was cost of manufacturer, cost of transport, cost of storage, taxes and profit. 

Manufacture was cheap. Her foster parents had seen to most of those costs. There wasn't compensation for clones. Just collection. The rest of her manufacture occured on that line. A short production line of clones strung up by the arms. Hoisted until their feet barely touched the floor. If she stood on tiptoes she could relieve the pain in her wrists. But only at the cost of growing cramps and pains in her calves. Then she'd sag, all her weight going into her wrists and shoulders. A cycle of pain as she waited. For her first even inspection. Less than ten days ago, she looked back at how she wasted that opportunity. 

The green uniformed animal control men gave way to a group in blue overalls. Three older men, one younger man and a woman. It was the younger man that caught her eye. Brad, a boy she recognized from school. Emotions swirled inside her, relief at seeing a familiar face and dread of another betrayal. Brad didn't notice Petra, not at first. They crowded around the first capture on the line. Too many sets of arms suspended from the ceiling obscured what was happening at the start of the line. 

But as they worked their way back, it became clearer and clearer what was going on. At first is was the bin they wheeled with them. A metal frame with a large linen bag. Then, it was the items they dumped into it. Rags and bits of cloth with no obvious source. Then, Petra saw the shears. She watched in horror as they methodically worked their way down, one clone at a time, slicing off their clothes. Petra panicked, she didn't have any spares if these were damaged.

Finally, the group came to her. Brad stared.

"You recognize this one?" The oldest of the men, portly and bearded with a missing tooth, asked.

Brad's young clean shaved face with it's square jaw and keen blue eyes stared at Petra. "I think so," he said, squinting. "It looks like a girl I knew at school."

"These things were everywhere," the foreman said. "It's not your fault if you went to school with one."

"It's just... weird," Brad said. "I..."

"Hey, if you don't feel comfortable, you can sit this one out," said the foreman, "as I said, it's not your fault."

The woman spoke up, "I've seen some I recognized." She held up the shears for Brad. "You gotta deal with it."

"Hey, Namcy," the foreman said, "he's new, we let him settle into it."

"Sure thing," Nancy replied, her tone full of obvious distain. She looked away, giving Brad the cold shoulder treatment. 

"You were new once," the foreman replied. He put his hand on Brad's arm. "Sit it out."

Brad shifted back and forth then reached for the shears. "No," he said, "I'll do it."

Nancy turned back, smirking at her victory. 

Brad took the shears with one hand and grabbed the hem of Petra's shirt with the other. He pulled the shirt in between the blades of the shears and made a deep cut. The fabric parted easily. A second cut followed the first. His hands were shaking, the points of the razor sharp blades inches from her skin.

The foreman reached out and gently took the shears out of Brad's shaking hands. "Well done but let me show you the proper technique." The foreman slid the shears into the cut in Petra's shirt. He placed the back of the blade against her skin then in a sudden motion thrust the shears up cleanly slicing the side of her shirt wide open. A second swift cut severed the strap of her bra leaving the clothes hanging awkwardly off her body. He reversed the shears and slid them over the waistband of her jeans. A single cut sliced through her belt, then he pushed the shears down, slicing the leg if her jeans open. There was nothing Petra could do. 

The foreman walked around the other side and grabbing her waistband with one hand, used the other to drive the shears down, openning the other leg of her jeans. The ruined garment fell off her. He tossed it to Nancy who threw it in the fabric bag. Reversing the shears again, Petra lost her shirt. All the remained was her bra hanging off one tit and her panties. The shears made short work of the bra and it followed the destroyed jeans and shirt into the fabric bin. She closed her eyes waiting for the cool blades of the shears against her skin. The foreman didn't bother, he reached down, grabbed the waistband of her panties and gave a mighty yank. The waistband of the panties parted. He tore them off, the gusset digging painfully into her labia as he dragged them of her. He tossed them into the bin. The group stepped back admiring Petra's naked stretched body.

"What do you think?" the foreman asked.

"The tits are a bit small," said one of the other old hands. 

"It's a reject," agreed Nancy her eyes on Brad.

Brad winced at the pronouncement. The foreman turned to Brad. "What do you think?"

"I... I... think," Brad stammered. He glanced over his shoulder at the far wall of the warehouse. A series of plastic flaps waved in the breeze. The first time Petra saw the dreaded curtain. 

The foreman took pity on the poor suffering Brad. "Don't worry, lad," he said. "We'll grade it for sale. John's right, the tits are way too small but at least it's a chance, ok?"

"Only if..."

"Hey, don't be cruel to the boy," he said taking a pointed look at Nancy. "We'll grade it for sale."

Brad breathed out a sigh of relief. The older man patted him on the back. 

Then for the first time since dinner with her parents, someone spoke to Petra. "He's saved you a lot of hurt. You should at least suck his cock in gratitude."

Petra's face blazed red hot.

"Well? You gonna suck his cock or not?"

Petra looked at Brad. Embarrassment fought with lust on his face. He licked his lips. Anticipation? Brad stared at her, waiting. Hoping.

Petra shook her head. 

Brad's face fell.

Petra was a lot wiser, she'd give anything to suck a man's dick. 

Instead the only thing she got to suck was gruel. She licked the plate clean. The sales staff seemed to appreciate girls that licked their played clean. Not that it would matter for Petra. As far as the sales staff were concerned, Petra was a waste of space. A space in the showroom taken up with defective unsaleable stock. Something to lead buyers around. Well, she wasn't completely useless. Any other girls tits looked huge next to Petra's and there was more than a couple of the clones that owed their price to Petra's small frame being caged next to theirs.

But space in a display stand is precious. Petra knew that from her studies. And she wasn't earning so she'd be cleared out for stock that buyers wanted. 

She raised herself upright onto her knees. The cage was too small to stand in. Then the leaned forward for a drink, taking the pipe the dispensed the water between her lips. The pipe didn't give up it's reward easily and her cheeks hollowed as she sucked for a drink. 

The pipe, the bowls and the cage had been the only constants since that first day. And being naked. But Petra had become so accustomed to that she no longer thought about it. She had initially. Being naked in a cage and having the warehouse people walk back and forth in front of her cage. Sometime Brad would walk past. Sometimes he'd steal a glance at her nakedness, sometimes he was too busy to notice.

They'd removed the rejects first. Some allowing themselves to be led away through the curtain. Like the fat girl in front of Petra. She knew she was fat. Unattractive. Reject material. Some of the guys struggled. Defiant and ready to put up a fight. The taser worked everytime. Their naked, twitching bodies slumped then dropped as the chains were lowered and attached to the tow bar on the back of a forklift and dragged off. The dark plastic curtain flapping back into place as the forklift dragged the rejects away. 

Then came the cages. It was perhaps the most educational time for Petra. The cages lined up waiting to swallow the naked bodies. The warehouse workers stayed as a group giving the clones no chance. The first girl was unhooked and as soon as she got her feet properly under her, made ready to fight. The crack of the taser put an end to her attempt and the crew roughly pushed her into the cage. She lay twitching as Nancy reached in and tore the tape off her face then unbuckled the ball in her mouth. She groaned.

When the second girl was lowered she was motionless, compliant. Tape ripped harshly off her face and her gag was removed as well. She crawled into the cage willingly, turming to stare forlornly at the rest of the girls from behind the bars.

The third, a redhead, followed the example of the second but when safely inside the cage, started to scream. "You fucking cunts," she screamed, "you can't do this to me. I have rights." She spat at them and screamed, "I know my fucking rights..."

It turned out the cage was no protection against the taser. 

They took the unconscious girl out. The foreman motioned to Nancy who went to the far wall and returned with a toolkit. The foreman pulled out a large syringe with a long wicked looking needle that glinted in the light. He drove it into the girl's throat. Satisfied, he dropped it back into the toolbox and they crew stuffed the girl back in her cage.

The message was clear. Clones had no rights. The next girls got the message and gave no trouble at all. 

It was Petra's turn. She'd seen everything she needed to know. The process was fine tuned and there was nothing but to go along with it. Nancy yanked the tape making her whole face burn as it was ripped off. Brad undid the straps and the ball fell out of her mouth, a glob of drool falling down and sliding between her tits. The cage beckoned and she crawled inside. 

The last of the girls, she sat inside the cage and watched as the crew walked out through the reject curtain. 

The showroom had a similar curtain. It covered a different door from the one than the girls like Petra came in from. She'd seen one girl, eyes wide and face white as her cage had been wheeled out through the reject curtain. Gone and never seen again. That was five days ago, the day Petra arrived. She was now the oldest girl in the showroom. Old and useless after five days. 

She looked around her at the girls. All tall. All big tits. Many blonde with blue eyes. A redhead with striking green eyes. Specimens. Chosen. Selected. B grade. Eyes looking back at her. Eyes full of pity, or disinterest or distain. All of them knew they were better than Petra. The B grades revelled in their superior status. Even though that meant they would be publicly fucked by a machine until their sobs could be heard across the warehouse. They knew they were superior to Petra.

Petra pretty soon learned she was C grade. They talked in the warehouse. Clones were a short term rage. Seen as an answer for couples that couldn't conceive. And couples had a choice. Some selected brains. They wanted kids would would be smart and achieve. They were the A grades. They were all gone. Once the law changed, clones were written out of the human race. Brains were no long common. They were clones of beautiful and athletic people. Selected for their beauty. Shallow parents would have an A grade son and a B grade daughter. B grades generally came with great tits. C grade were the rarest. There were some parents that had the romantic belief that their precious little baby shouldn't be a copy. They should grow and make their own life. Their source genetic material was another newborn. They clone grew up free from any history of their donor. Somewhere, Petra had a sister, an exact match, her age, who was growing up free. She hated that bitch with all her being. 

She slumped on her cage resigned. In the morning she'd find out what happened to rejects. She hoped it wouldn't hurt. She lay in the cage as the lights went out. She couldn't sleep. She reached down between her legs and ran her finger up her slit. Dry. She pushed the tip of her finger up and pushed back her hood exposing her clit. She rubbed it and it sparked into life. It took work but eventually her bald pussy lips became moist enough to slide her fingers inside. She played with herself as she tried to comfort herself to sleep but she lay awake, waiting.

The next morning, she awoke, disorientated until she realised where she was. The lights were on in the showroom. The interns coming through and feeding the girls. The girl to the left of Petra got her bowl of gruel. The intern walked right past Petra without looking and fed the girl to the right. All the girls were being fed - except Petra. C grade reject. The message was clear. Don't sink any more money into stock that you're going to dispose of. She swallowed and took a drink from her pipe.

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye. A salesman with a buyer. Here before the girls had eaten. An early starter. The cunts around Petra got onto their knees and displayed their glorious tits. Petra followed reluctantly, more from habit. She spread her legs and thrust forward her tits as best she could. 

"Is this it?" the buyer asked. It was a tall woman, in a long black trenchcoat, wearing slick leather pants and a dark top that exposed her midriff. Her face was thin, thirties perhaps with her eyes hidden behind designer shades. Her dark hair 

"Yep," the salesman replied. For once more interested in staring at the buyer than the merchandise. 

"C grade?" the woman asked.

"Yep. Certified C grade clone," said the salesman.

"You don't get many?" 

"Nope. This is a rare specimen indeed," he said, talking Petra up. 

The woman wandered in to the cage and lowered her face. Petra couldn't see through the glasses but the woman stared at her for some time. 

The woman spoke without turning around, "is it intact?"

"Yes."

"Voice?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's voice? Has it been fixed," the woman asked.

Petra's blood ran cold, this woman wanted to know if her voice had been fixed. Petra remembered the screaming redhead. How she'd called the warehouse workers cunts. How they'd tasered her, dragged her out of the cage, injected her neck and pushed her back inside. The redhead was silent after that. Petra hadn't thought anything about it at the time. The warehouse emptied leaving the girls in their cages. With the gags out of their mouths, they whispered to each other, then talked and before long swapped horrifying stories. 

Petra had been chatting to a brunette in the next cage. Talking about how she'd been caught. The brunette had been picked up at the mall. Gone shopping and when she'd tried to pay with her credit card, had been told there was a problem. Store security turned up and she though nothing of it. Then the men in greed overalls with yellow florescent jackets appeared. 

Petra and the girl were so engrossed in the conversation, they never noticed the sudden silence. The brunette stopped mid sentence, eyes wide. The crew stared back at her. Her reward for being the last one to speak was being dragged out of the cage and held down. The toolbox reappeared and the syringe with the long wicked needle was thrust into the girl's neck. They pushed her back into her cage and slammed the door. Then left. 

After they'd gone, Petra turned to the brunette. "Are you alright?" she'd whispered.

The brunette opened her mouth but nothing came out. Even her crying was silent. Petra hadn't spoke a word since. If she was going to get out of here, she'd need her voice.

"I don't know," the salesman said. "Maybe they fixed it at the warehouse." He rattled the cage.

Petra kept her mouth shut. If she said nothing, perhaps they'd not bother to fix her. 

"I don't know if it's been fixed or not," he looked perplexed. "If you want, I can get it fixed now?"

"I didn't ask you to fix it, I asked if it had already been fixed," the woman said. Her forehead tightened as she stared at Petra intently. "There must be some way to find out if it's already been fixed?"

The salesman stood, perplexed. 

"Do you have a test bench," the woman buyer asked.

"Sure," the salesman replied.

"Test it," the woman said. "Make sure the test is painful."

"You want to hear it scream?"

"Yes, exactly," she pulled the glasses forward and stared over the top. Sharp blue eyes boring into Petra's. "What have you got that'll make it scream?"

"Reciprocating fuck machine in the ass gets the best results," the salesman replied. "When it gets up to 50 rpm they scream - unless it's already been fixed," he added.

"Do it," the woman said. 

Petra was terrified. She wanted to be tested but not if it meant getting fixed. She trembled as the salesman unhooked the cage. The door swung open and the salesman waited. Petra knew what she needed to do. She lowered herself on her hands and knees and stuck her head out of the open door and waited. 

The salesman clipped a chain leash onto her collar, the weight of the chain dragging the collar against her neck. A tug from the salesman and she crawled between the line of cages, the B grade sluts exposing their tits and cunts for the buyer as she passed.

She looked up at the bench. It was old and worn and countless girls had been strapped to it and fucked until they were sobbing wrecks for the entertainment of potential buyers. It was a clones first opportunity to perform in front of their new buyers. But it wasn't the first time they were tested.

In the warehouse the captured girls waited in their cages. Once a day, they got a plate of slips and once a day, their waste was removed. Otherwise they just waited. No explanation. Just a line of naked silent girls in cages. Every now and again an new shipment would increase their number. 

On the second day, the group of warehouse workers came waking down in front of the cages. They came to a stop in front of the brunette in the cage next to Petra. The brunette with the fixed voice, now forever silent. 

The lead held a clipboard. "This one is item 25579," he said. "It's been age verified. Let's get that cunt out and give her a good testing," he said loosening his pants. 

Yes, testing of clones started in the warehouse. 

But this was the showroom. Petra crawled up onto the bench and lay on her back. There was no formal teaching, that's just the way clones did it. All the sales cages had a view of the bench, and that's the one way girls climbed into it. Every now and again a girl tried something different but that always ended with enough of a whipping to deter the next girl. 

Once Petra was on the bench, she placed her feet in the stirrups exposing her sex. Cold leather pressed against her ankles. Her stomach was next, trapping her arms against her sides.

"I want the arms over the head," the buyer said.

The salesman paused for a moment then unhooked the strap across her stomach and pulled out Petra's arms. Then the strap was secured over her stomach again. The salesman then pulled Petra's unyielding arms up above her head feeling the could touch of metal and hearing clicks of the cuff closing around her wrists as she was locked in place. Hands above her head simply increased her sense of exposure. 

Straps crossed between her tits and finally, around her neck and over her head. All the times she'd seen other clones being tested, it was now her turn. 

The salesman pushed the stirrups back, exposing her even more. With a clunk, they locked in place making her cunt and ass fully accessible to whatever test they wanted to administer. 

"Give me a whip," the woman said.

"Excuse me?"

"I want to whip it," the woman said. A warm finger pressed against Petra's pussy lips. "Here," she continued. "I want to whip it here."

"I'm afraid you can't whip the product," the salesman replied. "Not until after you've completed the purchase. Then, of course, you're free to do what you want."

"I want a rigorous test." The woman's finger stayed pressed against Petra's pussy. "What have you got?"

"The reciprocating fuck machine," he replied. "Three hundred revolutions per minute directly into the cunt or one fifty in the ass," the salesman said. "The cunt for pleasure, the ass for pain."

Petra's blood ran cold. It was designed to be painful?

"Cunt," the woman replied. 

Strapped to the bench, Petra closed her eyes in relief. 

"To start with," the woman added.

Out of Petra's sight a familiar rumble of plastic wheels on concrete reached Petra's ears. She didn't have to see it to know what it was, a large trolley with a contraption on top that included a fat plastic dildo on a steel rod. A sudden shock of cold hit Petra's cunt followed by strong, impersonal and experienced fingers that rubbed the slippery lube into her pussy. The fingers forced themselves inside, smearing the lube. More habit than anything else or more show for the buyer. If this buyer didn't take her, Petra had no doubts that her cunt wouldn't get any protection. 

The fingers disappeared only to be replaced by hard plastic. The salesman carefully positioned the fuck machine and the dildo slid inside Petra. It stretched her and she worried what it would be like at full speed. 

Two clicks and she trolley was locked in place. A third click and with a whine, the dildo pushed forward penetrating her. Then it slid back to Petra's relief before another relentless, stretching thrust. The salesman turned it up and the thrusts into Petra became faster and faster. She couldn't believe how the plastic rammed her and each time she though it was at maximum, the salesman simply kept turning the speed up. 

It hurt. The ruthless sawing action as it stretched her poor abused cunt. She could take the hurt and she bit down on her lip. But the hurt was soon followed by something else. A building and relentless pleasure as her body betrayed her giving into the relentless fucking. She had a harder time suppressing her reaction. She started to whimper, a thin indistinct sound. 

"How's that?" the salesman asked. "It made a noise."

"Inconclusive," the buyer replied 

Adding to Petra's woes was a sudden hard pressure against her clit. The buyers fingers, pressing hard. It wasn"t a touch of pleasure, it was one of ownership. Fingers pressed hard against her nub for the reaction it would get, not the pleasure it would give. 

The machine continued it's merciless assault on her cunt, waves of pleasure now building inside Petra. The world faded from her consciousness. The showroom, her capture, the salesman, her lost life. Everything fading as her sex demanded attention. Everything except the buyer and her fingers pressed down hard, working Petra's clit 

Petra moaned. Indistinct. She groaned then whimpered. The whir of the fuck machine filled her ears. She balled her hands into fists and her ties curled. The only movement she had to express what was happening to her. As much as she wanted to resist, her body failed her and with a shudder, she came, the explosions of pleasure running up and down inside her body. Holding her throat closed, her strangled moans carrjng across the showroom sounding every bit like one of the fixed girls. 

The salesman was all business, "sounds like she's been fixed to me."

The buyer removed her fingers from Petra's cunt and wiped them on Petra's stomach, smearing the slippery mix of lube and her cunt onto her skin. "Do the ass," the buyer said. "I want to be sure."

The machine shifted, the hard shaft leaving her pussy empty. It still throbbed with the stimulation. Another cold squirt hit her sensitive privates, this time her ring. The reciprocating fuck machine was wheeled forward again, this time the tip of the hard plastic dildo pressing against her ass. It was unnatural how it pressed in. Unnatural but not unfamiliar. 

Petra had been fucked up the ass before. Just once. By Brad, a boy she knew in school. It wasn't while she was in school however, it was at the first holding warehouse. Trapped in a cage, she watched as the other girls were age validated one by one. A group of men would file out. They'd stand outside one if the cages, the girl inside knowing what was to come. They'd declare her age verified, then pull her out a gangrape her. Some cried. Some screamed. A few tried to get into it but the men just made sure to treat her rougher and rougher until the girl broke. 

Then it was Petra's turn. The group of workers outside her cage. Five men, including Brad who used to go to the same school as Petra, along with two women, including the sadistic bitch, Nancy. She hoped that the presence of the women would help. It wasn't the help she wanted.

"Age verified," the foreman said. "Let's get this cunt processed." The foreman turned to Brad, "you knew this? It used to go to the same school?"

Brad stared at Petra. Petra could see the recognition in the look he gace. He remembered who she was. He knew her name. He knew the girl who liked to laugh and liked to study. The slightly awkward, bookish girl with dreams of college. But he didn't acknowledge it. He mumbled.

The foreman said, "hey, it's nothing to be ashamed of, it's not your fault one of these things was sent to the same school."

Brad looked at the foreman with a shy smile, grateful for the support.

"Best thing to do is get over it," he said. "How about you break it in."

Brad stared at Petra for a few seconds then nodded. He stepped forward and unlocked the door to Petra's cage. It swung open with a squeak.

"Out," Brad said. 

Petra swallowed then rocked forward onto her hands and knees, slowly crawling towards the cage door. Brad waited , looking uncertain. 

Petra poked her head through the door. The foreman lunged forward and grabbed Petra's hair in his fist. He then yanked on her hair so hard Petra screamed. She scurried though the tiny opening as quickly as she could. Once outside the foreman , pushed Petra's head down, pressing her cheek into the cold hard concrete floor of the warehouse. 

Still holding her down, the foreman said to Brad, "they look human but they're not. You need to make sure you're clear about who's in control."

Brad nodded.quietly.

"It's OK, son," he said. "We've all had out journey getting used to these things, It's nothing to be ashamed of." The foreman lifted Petra's head by her hair. "Grab it like this and we'll show you how it's done."

The foreman released Petra's hair, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Brad grabbed a bunch of it but loosely and without with tight pressure on her scalp.

*Grab it properly," the foreman said. "Like you mean it"

Brad changed his grip. Petra grunted in pain and grimaced. 

"That's more like it,* the foreman said brightly. "Drag it around and present it for inspection."

Using his tight grip, Brad dragged Petra around so her ass faced the small crowd. He then pushed her head down into the floor. Petra crouched, on her knees, ass up, face on the floor, arms out. The breeze cooled her pussy and ass which we totally exposed, presented to the group of workers.

"Ask who's first," the foreman said, still guiding Brad. 

"Who's first," Brad asked, still holding Petra down. 

It was a woman's voice that spoke up. "I'm first," Nancy replied. "Before you boys leave a mess."

Soft footsteps approached Petra from behind. Warm fingers brushed her pussy, rubbing and probing. Strong fingers that didn't care. A finger pressed inside, checking, proving, testing. Petra breathed slowly, aroused in spite of herself. 

"It's responding," Nancy said to the collected group. The fingers probed, an extra finger joined the first. The knuckles of Nancy's hand pushing against Petra's soft mound as Nancy drove the fingers deep inside. 

Petra moaned. 

The probing deepened, the fingers working their way around her cunt, stretching and pulling it. Testing and exploring. A third finger joined the fourth. 

"Oh God," Petra groaned..

The fingers stopped. "Has this one been fixed yet," Nancy asked. 

Silence. 

"Did you hear something?" the foreman asked. 

"It spoke," Nancy said. 

"Did it?" the foreman replied. "We'll need to fix that."

Petra's blood froze in her veins. 

"I didn't hear anything," Brad said. 

"I did," Nancy replied. "Let's fix it. Soon it will be mandatory anyways."

One of the other workers, a fat, pasty faced man with a scraggly beard, spoke up. "I wanna use it's mouth first, it's never the same after they've been fixed," he said. "They don't choke the way I like em to."

The foreman raised his hand, "rules are rules. If the thing can't remain silent, it's gotta be fixed." He turned to Brad. "You sure you didn't hear anything? No words?"

"Just grunts," he said.

The foreman stared at Brad for a moment then waved to Nancy. "Carry on."

By now the other worker was pulling out his dick. "Get this end ready, boy," he said to Brad.

Brad dragged Petra's head off the floor and twisted it so she was facing the worker. His cock was already stiff and ready. Brad guided Petra's head onto the cock. It's head bumped against Petra's lips once then she opened her mouth. The disgusting fat worker's cock slid into her mouth. She preferred the slops and petfood they gave her to this disgusting piece of meat. 

She had no choice.

"Work her good," said the fat man to Brad. Brad pressed her head forward until the fleshy shaft slammed into the back of her throat. Petra gagged. Tears streamed down her eyes as she choked on cock, and as Nancy continued to stretch her poor cunt wide open. 

Another finger slipped in. There was no pretense, Nancy was pushing with all four fingers working Petra's cunt open, working her fist inside. Petra would have begged but for the fat man in her mouth. The stretching of her pussy became unbearable as Nancy pushed her hand forward. Petra screamed into the cock invading her mouth. Suddenly, the thickest part of Nancy's hand was inside. Petra never felt so full and so stretched. 

Even so, Brad continued to slam her head into the cock. Petra's lungs burned as she choked on it. When the fat man came, Petra was totally unprepared and his disgusting goop filled her throat. Hurriedly, she swallowed, clearing his filthy bitter seed from her throat. When he pulled out, Petra retched onto the floor. Phlegm, cum and puke splattering onto the concrete.

The workers stood in a circle, watching the sight of Nancy with her wrist disappearing into the naked Petra's pussy. Nancy sawing her hand back and forth with a look of concentration while Petra screamed, her face a mask of agony. Finally, Petra was a sobbing, weeping wreck, her face on the floor in her own puddle of puke. Afraid to beg, the sounds that came out were barely human. Finally, Nancy yanked her fist out. 

Petra knelt, face on the ground, sobbing.

Nancy turned to Brad, "it's all yours."

Brad stared, mouth open. 

The foreman spoke up. "Nancy, you wrecked it's cunt on purpose. Get out of here, I'll deal with you later."

Nancy gave Brad a smirk and then walked off. The other workers, denied a tight cunt to fuck, muttered amongst themselves and walked off as well, leaving Brad and the foreman. 

The fireman lowered his voice as he spoke to Brad. "Son, you know what we talked about."

"Yes, sir," Brad replied his face lowered. 

"You have to use it. Break this idea that it's human," he said. "I need to trust that you can treat these things the way they need to be treated." He leaned in. "I know you used to know it but it's a clone. Legally, it's an object. Treat it like one."

Brad nodded. 

"You have to shove your dick in it," the foreman said softly.

'But look at what Nancy did to it's cunt," Brad said

"Hey, are you worried about hurting it?" 

"No. No," Brad replied quickly. "It's just.... it'll be too stretched and ... no fun."

"Fuck it's ass."

"Without lube?"

"Remember it's an object. You have to stop thinking about this being some girl from school. It's meat. Use it," he said. 

Brad, released his grip on Petra's hair. He reached down and undid his pants. Petra stared as his cock came out. She wished so badly she'd sucked it. Shown Brad a good time that first day. Made her mouth a preferred option. Not had her body become some object to torture for pretty workplace politics. Petra's eyes widened. Brad's cock was huge. Long and thick. Something she'd rather have in her mouth than her ass.

Brad moved behind Petra and liked down. Her cunt lips were red, raw, swollen and abused and useless for gripping pleasingly on a cock. Her ass hole was pure, tiny, puckered and innocent. It twitched in anticipation as Petra lay there. He looked at the girl he knew in school. The one that sometimes he'd fancied. Who'd laughed and been kind to others. But that was gone , he reminded himself. The thing in front of him was a clone. An object. 

He pressed the head of his dick against the tiny rosebud. Petra clenched her hands. Her asshole tightened in protest much as she wanted to relax it. Then Brad forced his way in, slowly pushing Petra's tight delicate ring open. She grunted and groaned. Her face contorted. But Petra knew better than to say anything. Brad's head forced her open and was just inside her entrance. 

"Ram it home, and fuck this piece of meat," the foreman said.

Brad shoved his hips forward and the rest of his cock pushed through the tight ring, the dry flesh gripping at him.

Petra shrieked at the agony of the raw burning pain. 

Brad flinched.

"Again,* said the foreman. 

Brad pulled back and slammed her asshole again. 

Petra shrieked and sobbed. 

"Feels good doesn't it," the foreman said. "Nice and tight."

Brad nodded. It did feel good. He thrust again, this time without prompting. He moaned with pleasure even as Petra screamed out her agony. Then, urged on by lust and arousal, Brad put both hands on Petra hips and savagely ass fucked her as she screamed, sobbed and finally whimpered at the end of his cock. Brad didn't look at her face, it was easier to focus on his pleasure and he kept his eyes in the mesmerising sight of his cock plunging into her ring, the delicate folds of flesh moving back and forth as he rammed himself into her. He grinned.

The foreman slapped him on the back and grinned in response, both of them oblivious to the screams and whimpers of pain coming from Petra. 

Eventually, Brad's breathing became faster and shallower. His movements became stronger and he drove himself in harder and harder. He groaned. His cock twitched inside Petra's brutalized ass. Then he came, roaring as he filled her with jet after jet of his seed. 

Spent, he lowered his head, sweat dripping off his hair onto Petra's back. She groaned in relief as he withdrew. 

"Fuck," Brad said. "Fuck."

"Hey," the foreman replied, "don't miss the best bit." 

With that he reached down and grabbed Petra by the hair. He yanked up her head and dragged her around, pushing her face into Brad's cock. She opened her mouth in shock only to have the foreman force her mouth over Brad's cock. The butter taste of her own ass exploded in her mouth and she gagged and retched. The movement only added to the pleasure. 

"You get the clones to suck it clean," the foreman added," good luck getting a normal girl to do that. 

Brad relaxed as let the foreman hold Petra's head over his satiated cock. 

After a few minutes, the foreman pulled Petra head away. He spoke to Brad, "that was a decent assfuckng, son." He grinned. "Not bad for a first attempt." Then he pushed Petra's head to the floor. "Now, let me show you how it's really done."

No, Petra was not the least an anal virgin. 

The salesman adjusted the stirrups raising Petra's hips. He squirted a jet of cold lube onto her asshole. She shivered at the sudden chill. 

Then Petra felt nothing for a moment before a large blunt object pressed against her tight ring. The pressure increased. She tried to relax against the unnatural pressure, to let the thing inside but her ass had a mind of its own. 

The salesman simply pushed the trolley until the probing shaft was driven inside. Petra grunted. The pressure continued until Petra was full, the dildo pushed deep inside. Then with a faint click, the dildo stared to saw back and forth with a faint whir. 

Petra bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut as the hard plastic thrust back and forth into her ass.

"Turn it up," the buyer said.

The faint whir increased in volume and carried across the showroom. Petra clenched her fists, resisting it, as she lay there. She felt a dozen eyes in her. The other girls always watched units being tested. And that's what Petra was, a unit being tested. She grunted as each thrust pressed into her. 

"More," the buyer said.

The whir became a whine and the pressure in her ass became a ruthless ramming, as the dildo relentlessly sawed in and out of her tight ring. 

Petra moaned. 

"How high does this go?" the buyer asked.

"300 rpm," the salesman said. "But we don't usually go that high."

"Why not?"

The salesman paused, "it can damage the stock," he said. 

"How high are you willing to go?" 

There was a pause and the sound of a note being passed between two people.

"I guess I can make an exception," the salesman replied. 

With no warning the whine increased in pitch and volume, filling Petra's ears. Her own screaming joined it as the reciprocating fuck machine pummeled her mercilessly, relentless and impassionate. The discomfort gave way to pain as her body protested being abused. 

Worse, the buyers fingers landed on her clit. Expert fingers that found her nub, exposed it and stimulated her. 

Fucked up the ass and fingered on the clit became too much for Petra. The pressure built inside her. More and more then with a howl, she came. Hard. Her howls became moans, then whimpers. The buyer and the fucking machine didn't let up. 

A second wave of pleasure threatened Petra. This time more intense than the first. When she came her howls carried across the showroom. Petra was that bitch being tested. That second orgasm lasted longer than the first. More intense but her sensitive body was becoming fatigued. 

Neither the reciprocating fuck machine nor the buyer relented as the fuck machine pummeled her ass and the buyer pressed down hard on her clit with her thumb, slowly rolling it around. 

It was the sort of pain mixed with deep sensation that had Petra tumbling towards another crashing orgasm. This time however, the sensation was overwhelming. Instead of moans or a howl, Petra began to sob as her body went into overload.

The buyer and the reciprocating fuck machine carried on, relentless. 

Petra's sobs turned into something she couldn't control, something instinctive. She begged. Just a couple of simple words but enough.

"It's not fixed," said the buyer. 

"I'll get a team..."

"Don't bother," we can fix it later. "It's all part of the fun of breaking them in," she said. "I'll expect a discount though."

Petra was to be sold. She'd avoid the curtain but it looked like it would cost her voice. 

The salesman and buyer wandered off to complete the paperwork leaving Petra strapped to the bench with a whirring fuck machine ramming a dildo ruthlessly into her ass. 

It could be a lot worse.


	2. The Conditioning Bench

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Petra is put on the conditioning bench

Petra was in training. More than training, this was conditioning. And they were conditioning her to fuck. To crave being fucked. And to crave being fucked hard. 

But to Petra, this was torture. 

She lay on her back on a tray, curved so she wouldn't roll out of it easily. The tray itself had tiny rollers and sat on top of a small bench. The tray had slid back and forth alarmingly as they secured her. Her hands were useless, wrists cuffed they were cross in front of her throat and the cuff secured to the collar around her neck. She could wiggle her elbows and her fingers but that was all. 

That wasn't the only thing the collar was doing. It was also exposing her to the world. Straps around her lower thigh, just above her knee were secured to fine chains that connected to her collar, pulling her knees back and exposing her ass and cunt. A short bar between her knees made sure the exposure was full and her sex accessible. 

She didn't mind that so much. It had become part of her life now. As a clone she wasn't a person and clothes cost money and served no purpose. So no one had bothered with clothes and as for Petra, she had no say in the matter. Any shred of modesty had been ripped away, the day she was sold.

She'd never seen the buyer after she'd been brought. After the buyer had left her on the test bench, she'd handed the delivery of Petra over to others. It was a low cost affair with no clothes involved.

The salesman returned with a worker in a florescent jacket. Brad, the boy she knew from school. 

"This is the item," the salesman had said. Then he walked off. Nothing else to recognize Petra. Not even recognition that she'd made him an unexpected commission. She was C grade after all. 

Brad put the clipboard on Petra's stomach then switched off the reciprocating fuck machine that had beenl ramming a dildo into her ass. Petra slumped in relief, both at the end to the fucking and the fact she'd finally been sold. The burning in her ass was replaced by the feeling of the cool clipboard on her stomach.

Brad flicked open Petra's restraints, releasing her wrists and ankles. Then, grabbing Petra by the hair, pulled her to her feet. He'd improved since that first day, his grip was tight and it hurt when he pulled her up. The clipboard slid off her stomach and onto the floor with a clatter. 

Petra stood, hands by her sides. Compliant. 

Brad silently walked behind her, then grabbed her wrists and placed them behind her back. Petra held them in position. Quickly and efficiently, Brad pulled two zip ties out of his belt, holding one between his teeth, he used the other to secure Petra's wrists together. The second zip tie went in between her wrists looped around the first zip tie to make a makeshift handcuff. Cheap and effective. Petra knew from her marketing days about reducing shipping costs. Given she was sold there was no need to make attractive packaging, instead just the minimum to safely move the product was all that was required. 

He grabbed her hair again and this time pushed her to her knees. Yanking her head forward, he exposed her neck. He fiddled with her collar. More precisely he fiddled with the collar around her neck. It wasn't hers. It turns out it wasn't the buyer's either. He pulled it off and placed it in his pocket. He pulled out another zip tie, larger and thicker with a lump about a third of the way along it's length. 

The plastic was cool but soon warrmed up against her neck. He pulled the zip tie closed, the lump preventing it from closing enough to choke her. 

She knelt, head down, waiting. 

A small rattle came from Brad's utility belt as he adjusted himself in front of her. 

His hand grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. Directly in front of her face was his semi erect cock. Petra was elated. Brad wanted her. Perhaps it was an unmet desire from their days in school. Perhaps he'd fancied her or had a crush. Or perhaps he just wanted to see what it felt like. It was a connection to her last, almost a human desire. All the other girls that got shipped off were treated like objects. The simple fact of wanting to fuck Petra's mouth was an admission that she had a past.

He waited.

Petra knew what to do. She licked her lips and opened her mouth. Then leaning forward, she closed her lips around the head of his cock. Craning her neck forward, she took more of him inside her mouth. She rocked back and forth as she sucked, her tongue darting over his cock inside her mouth. 

She looked up. 

Brad was staring at her, his eyes narrowed. She stared back. Directly into his eyes. For the first time in days, someone looked at her and saw a girl. A quiet, bookish girl with dreams of college forced into sucking for his pleasure but still enough recognition for tears of joy to run down Petra's cheeks. 

Brad misinterpreted the tears for something else. 

He reached down and grabbed a fistful of her hair and using it for leverage, rammed he face forward as he thrust with his hips. His cock slammed into the back of her throat. She gagged and choked but fought to control the reflexes. He fucked her mouth relentlessly as gobs of drool and spit dripped out of her mouth and into her tits. More tears, this time from the assault on her throat, ran down her face. His cock twitched in her mouth. 

She managed to glance up through the fucking. To see his eyes and his face. His eyes watched her intently, never moving off her face and the sight of his cock ramming into her throat, his mouth twisted in a smirk. Not contempt, maybe not even sadism, but something else. Satisfaction. Like something achieved. 

A strange joy swept through Petra. The joy from being recognized. Perhaps Brad had always imagined this or perhaps it was something he was doing because he could. But either way, in his mind he was finally getting the blow job from that shy girl in school. For a moment, Petra was a girl being mouth raped by a guy from school, not a clone. More tears ran down her face. 

Brad's cock twitched again, then a gooey, salty spurt hit the back of her throat. Brad withdrew quickly, the next spurt of hot liquid landing on Petra's lip. He wanted to leave his mark, that was clear because the third landed on the bridge of he nose. The final and smaller spurt hit her hairline. The power of his ejaculation spent, he wiped the remaining cum that oozed out into her cheeks. 

Quickly, he shoved his cock back in her mouth and Petra lovingly cleaned it off, grateful for the short period of humanity he'd given her. 

He tucked himself away then, using her hair, yanked her to her feet. He clipped a leash to the zip tie around her neck, stooped to pick up the clipboard then led her through the warehouse in front of the caged clones.

Petra walked erect as jealous eyes of the older stock followed her, envious that she'd got herself a buyer. In amongst those were the wider, horrified eyes of the newer stock who didn't fully grasp their reality yet. Petra was a happy as could be, given her new life at any rate. Even the cum hardening on her face, the drool cooling on her chin and tits couldn't affect her mood. She'd been sold and was now safe from the curtain and she'd had a moment of her life from before, even it it was just to fulfill the fantasy of a boy from school.

She followed Brad as he led her through a door and out of the warehouse. The door lead to the reception area and showroom. To the right was the reception desks lined up in front of the offices of the salespeople. In the middle office, sat the salesman who'd sold Petra, his eyes focused on the screen in front of him. He didn't look up. The receptionists watched Petra with indifference, something to break the boredom rather than anything interesting in it's own right.

Of to the left was the premium stock. A gorgeous blonde with firm, ripe teardrop shaped tits was bent over a bar as a muscular naked black man fucked her from behind, one hand on each hip, her pale peach shaped ass contrasting with his muscular abs. He thrust hard, pulling with his hands each time he pushed his hips forward. She winced at each penetrating thrust, her gasps carrying across the room. Next to the couple was a striking brunette with clear blue eyes and a delicate Asian girl with silky straight black hair. Both were naked. Both kneeling with knees slightly parted and hands clasped behind their heads displaying their smooth tits. 

No one paid them any attention. Just another fixture in the office that everyone got used to. Everyone except Brad. A twinge of envy hit Petra as Brad kept his eyes on the blonde even as he led Petra up to the desk. It spoiled her moment, she'd been his meat. Something specific to him but now she wasn't so sure. Perhaps Brad would have mouth fucked any of the clones the same way. 

A buzzer sounded and the man withdrew from the blonde. The reason for her grunts and pained expression becoming clear as his monster cock slid out of her. The Asian stood and walked to the bar. Wordlessly, she bent over. The black man grabbed her hips and thrust himself inside her. She gasped and her eyes widened before squeezing them shut as his massive cock drilled into her. 

The blonde slid to her knees next to the brunette and took up her position displaying herself. The Asian meanwhile shook with each thrust, and a tear slid down her cheek as she bit her lip and whimpered. The male's fingers wrapped around her hips and performed the same deep thrusting action as he had with the blonde. 

All the premium stock were obviously clones. Petra wondered if the black guy ever got to cum or if his life was continuously fucking the most gorgeous women with no satisfaction. 

She never found out. Brad led her to the receptionist a pretty young thing with a fresh face and dyed blonde hair in a plait. Slightly plump, she'd have been for the curtain for certain is she was a clone. But she wasn't a clone. She smiled at Brad. "Hi," she said brightly.

"One for delivery," he said. "Do you have the consignment slip?" He slid the clipboard on the counter in front of the receptionist.

"What's the item number?" 

"It's there," Brad said leaning against the counter, pointing at the sheet on the board. 

"Oh yes, so it is." The receptionist busied herself clacking away at the keyboard. She stole a glance at Brad and smiled. 

He smiled back and ran his fingers through his hair. She kept in at her work glancing up occasionally - at Brad. 

A printer whirred next to the receptionist and she slid the consignment note so Brad could read it. Petra although afraid to speak, and never spoken to, could still read. Her consignment note read.

Asset No. 997449  
Microchip ID. X-1287-5549-XDM-72  
Bid No. PRIVATE SALE  
Grade. C GRADE  
Height. 157 cm  
Weight. 48kg (ON ARRIVAL)  
Measurements. 31-22-35 (ESTIMATE)  
Voice. UNALTERED  
Fertility. CHEMICALLY INFERTILE  
Libido. UNALTERED  
Intelligence. UNALTERED  
Conditioning. NONE  
Virginity. NONE

The fact that she was chemically infertile hit Petra like a punch in the gut. She didn't even know what they were doing to her. She hadn't been injected with anything meaning it was the food or the water. She couldn't trust anything. 

The rest of the consignment slip was address instructions, somewhere she didn't recognize. 

"That's all in order," Brad said. "Do you have a pouch for this?"

The receptionist handed Brad a small square of plastic. Deftly, he peeled the back off and slapped it on Petra's right tit, just above the nipple. He folded the consignment slip and slid it into the pouch. Now anyone who cared could read Petra's status. 

She glanced over at the premium stock. The Asian was openly weeping now, the man fucking her oblivious to her distress as he continued to thrust himself deep inside her without respite. Petra got a warm satisfaction seeing the premium Asian hurting under the relentless pounding of the black clone. She wondered how long before the buzzer sounded and the brunette would relieve the Asian. 

She never got to find out. Brad tugged her leash and pulled her towards the front door of the reception area. The door slid open and a blast of cold air and noise greeted Petra. The cold air of outside hit her face, cooling the cum and drool on her face and tits. Worse, the sound were of traffic and streets. People walking. 

Brad yanked her out onto the street, leading her across the pavement to a post by a park designated as a loading area. The cold wind played across Petra's body making her nipples harden and stick out. Unlike in the warehouse and reception area where clones were normal and unexceptionable, out here Petra attracted the gaze of every passing man. 

But there was nothing she could do but wait and hope that the delivery van that would take her to her next destination would arrive quickly. 

It was over an hour late.

No, Petra had no problems having her privates exposed. The wait for the delivery van to bring her to this awful place, standing as passersby stared at her nakedness had well and truly sort that. 

So, apart from some early cramps, she no longer cared about being exposed as she lay on the bench. 

But the gag was a new experience. A large rubber ball jammed in her mouth and held tight with straps. The ball was agony, the massive thing made her jaw ache. Worse, lying on her back, saliva pooled in her mouth and with the ball jammed in, she struggled to swallow it. But the agony was worth it and she was grateful for the small mercy of the ball. 

She hadn't been fixed yet. 

No, the ball wasn't the worst of her problems. The worst part was the loop of rope around her neck, expertly placed under her collar. The rope was the only thing holding her on the bench. Once they'd secured her in, they pulled the lever that lowered the bottom of the bench. With a click, and a thunk, her ass dropped six inches, perfect height for fucking. She had no doubts she'd be fucked. That had been the near constant. 

No the worst part of the whole conditioning set up was the loop around her neck. With the end of the bench lowered, she slid down pulling the rope hard around her neck.

It pulled tighter and tighter until the resistance stopped her body from sliding any further. Breathing was hard. She could do it but it was an effort. But more than that was the terror. It was hard to breathe but she could feel the constant pull against her neck as her own weight threatened to make it worse. 

The two workers who strapped her to the bench stepped back. They watched. 

She struggled.

The rope tightened. 

She stopped struggling and the rope held firrm cutting off her air. Not fully. Not enough to strangle her.

But it was still an effort to breathe. 

She lay on the bench for what felt like an enternity as they watched. In reality, it was fifteen seconds. 

Satisfied that she wasn't going to die immediately, they left her. Their echoing footsteps trailed off into the distance. 

She managed to turn her head enough to see her surroundings. She was in some sort of large room or corridor. She couldn't tell where it ended. 

The echoing footsteps returned. They got louder. In amongst the clop of their boots, Petra heard faint slaps. Bare feet. 

She strained her head to the left just enough to see the two workers pushing a blonde towards a similar bench. Like Petra, the blonde's wrists were secured to her collar. Like Petra the blonde moved unsurely. Compliant and not resisting but obviously afraid. 

The blonde's eyes darted between Petra, Petra's bench and the bench they were leading her to. 

For a moment, the blonde locked eyes with Petra. She shared a moment and in the blonde's gaze, Petra saw terror and perhaps even a little sympathy. 

Little did Petra know that the blonde would very soon become a rival.

They put the blonde on the bench. They strapped her legs to her collar and inserted the spreader bar. The blonde was fixed, no gag for her. Then, they pulled the pin and the end of the bench dropped with a clunk. 

The blonde slid down and the rope tightened pulling into the skin of her neck, her eyes bulging wide in terror before she settled into place. 

They watched. 

Twenty seconds. 

But that must have felt like an eternity for the blonde. 

It still felt like an eternity for Petra. 

The two workers walked off. Footsteps receding out of sight. 

And returned. With time with a redhead. The redhead didn't look around. 

She'd done this before. 

Petra couldn't see past the blonde as they secured the redhead onto her own bench. 

Just like she couldn't see the two clones after the redhead being secured. 

Petra could see the blonde clearly however. Slightly larger and heavier than Petra she was in obvious distress from the rope around her neck. 

Time passed. The agony of her position seemed to make it last forever. It could have been hours or just minutes until echoing footsteps approached the bound line of clones. 

Two men. In high visibility vests that read SECURITY.

"Dave. Look at that meat," said the younger of the guards. A gangly young man with bucked teeth. 

"Yeah, it's training day for this lot," said the older. A bearded guy with a lot belly. "Wanna start their training off, Eddie?"

Eddie's eyes widened at the thought. "Can we?"

"Sure, I'll cover for you," Dave said. 

"I dunno," Eddie drawled, unsure. "I mean couldn't we get into trouble?"

Dave laughed. "What? For fucking a clone. There's no law for that." He tugged at his belt. "Would it help if I went first?" 

Eddie swallowed. "Yeah."

Dave walked up and down the line. He paused at Petra and stared down at her exposed privates. His eyes met hers. 

Lust. 

That's all she saw. 

He smirked. The smirk of someone who'd found a bargain at a store. 

He reached out his hand.

Towards her privates.

Petra wiggled instinctively. 

The rope tightened.

She tensed. 

And closed her eyes.

Two fingers touched her sex. One each side of her pussy lips. The fingers moved apart opening her. The cool air entered her. 

She shivered. From the humiliation, not the cold.

The rope tightened.

The other hand reached out. 

A warm object entered her. His finger. Probing her pussy. Being pushed inside her cunt. It hurt. 

"Dry," he said.

"Oh?" Eddie asked. 

"She's dry," Dave replied. "They always put the new ones at this end."

"She's new?" 

"Yep." Dave pulled his finger out and absentmindedly wiped it on Petra's thigh.

Petra sighed in relief behind her gag. The rope tightened just a fraction from the small movement. 

"The new ones don't know how to make themselves wet." Dave walked to the blonde. 

He probed her as she lay there with her eyes screwed shut. 

"New," Dave said.

He walked to the redhead. 

"This one's good," he said. 

For a few seconds, Petra heard the rustle of fabric then, after another short pause, a slap. Skin against skin. The slapping repeated. Low pitched it got louder as the rhythm increased in tempo. as it echoed around the large area.

Dave was fucking the redhead. 

Hard. 

Petra lay in her back, the rope digging into her neck thinking. The only thing worse than the humiliation or being bound helpless and naked would be to be fucked by some ugly stranger. She was glad the guard has chosen the redhead. She couldn't bear the thought of a stranger's cock inside her as she suffered. 

No, Petra was glad the redhead was the one being raped. 

Dave's grunts got louder as he rammed into the redhead. Then his grunts turned into a groan. 

"Yeah," Dave said. The sound of his heavy breathing carried across to Petra. "Your turn," he said.. His equipment belt rattled as he put his clothing back in place. 

Eddie walked up and down the line of girls. He stopped in front of Petra. "Can I try a new one," he said. 

"It's not a virgin if that's what your asking," Dave replied. 

"Oh," Eddie said the disappointment clear in his voice. 

He reached out and stabbed a finger into Petra's cunt. He paused. Then twisted his finger. Petra's face burned. 

"Mmm," Eddie mused. 

He pulled out roughly. 

He stepped over to the blonde. She stiffened on her bench as his finger invaded her body. 

Eddie grunted then stepped back.

He walked past the freshly fucked redhead. 

A pause and he said, "oh wow. I see what you mean."

"It's soaked, right?" Dave asked. 

"Totally," Eddie said. 

The sound of skin slapping on skin followed soon after. Eddie's grunts were louder and more feral than Dave's.

The short rattle of Eddie pulling himself together was followed by their receding footsteps. 

Petra and the other four girls were alone. 

But not for long.


End file.
